Shut Up, Padfoot!

83

I leaned my head on the window. The glass cooled the heat on my face. The trees swayed aggressively, leaves swept up in the harsh wind of late spring.

A slam from the front door startled me.

Turning to look out my open door, I awaited a quick sight of Pandora. When I realized that she hadn't walked passed my door, I grew alarmed. Goosebumps arose on my arms.

"Dora?" I called.

Something fell to the ground. I'm not sure what it is. I just know I didn't get an answer. Slowly, I made my way towards the doorway. My toes lightly touched upon the floorboards, careful not to make any loud creaks.

Curling my fingers around the handle of my wand, I held my breath. She always passes my room when she gets home. It's the only way to get to her room.

"Holy shit!"

Pandora zoomed into my line of vision. My heart skipped a beat and I jumped. The grip on my wand loosened when I registered her face.

She frowned when she looked me up and down. After blinking, she pushed passed me into the room. Her Pride grimoire grazed my elbow on her way.

"I think I got a lead," she blurt.

The spellbook plopped on the bed as she kicked off her shoes. She immediately curled in on herself. She tucked her hair behind her ears and flipped the pages.

"No 'hello, I'm back, honey' greeting? What's going on?" irritatingly, I wondered.

She cleared her throat, the crinkle of ancient sheets resounded. I joined her, settling on the edge of the bed. Swiftly, I pulled the hem of my nightgown over my bare feet.

"Read," she ordered.

A neat envelope fell next to my knee. I curiously plucked it and tore the already unsealed paper up. I began reading it.

Information on: Raphaël Bellerose
• Sex: Male
• Blood: Half
• Strega mortale
• Birth: May 8, 1940

Location: Ministry of Magic - Level 3 Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes.

My brows scrunched and I swallowed. There's no forwarding address, sender, or anything that can signify where this came from. Simply a letter with information that probably isn't even true. Someone could just be messing with us.

"Dora, what is- what is this?" I sighed.

I rubbed my temple, flitting my eyes to her. She frantically scanned through her book. She hadn't even taken off her jacket yet. The smell of outside clung to her clothing still.

"We can talk to him. He must know something," she explained.

"Do you even know where this is from? It could be a trap or joke," I replied.

She scoffed and pulled the grimoire into her lap, satisfied with the page she finally found. He could be completely nonexistent. And who's to say he could help when we take a visit? He might not know anything.

"Or a wild goose chase.. this could be Tom baiting me. He might want to confirm I'm actually alive," I continued.

"Just shift your appearance, it should be fine. Let's go this weekend," she dismissed.

I replaced the letter to its hold and set it to the side. Peering at her, I couldn't help but feel a bittersweet feeling. She's trying so desperately to help me. Especially after that time she caught me in a low moment.

"I don't want to go," I interjected.

She finally looked at me. Actually looked at me. Her mouth formed the consonant W and she was on the verge of asking me. Disbelief was written all over her face.

"Your nonna told us all we needed to know. We tried to get out of it by resuscitating me and that cleansing ritual. But the spell she cast is making it pretty clear I don't have long," I clarified.

"What- this could literally help you. Why won't you just want to live? Did you give up that easily?" she countered with her tempered tone.

I let out a humorless laugh. Diverting my eyes, I tried to let that statement set in. I can't believe she just said that. Of course I've tried a lot to get to where I am right now. But honestly, I'd rather be dead than continue burdening a room of a home that doesn't belong to me.

Sure, I gave up a lot. But it makes sense with all the things that have been thrown at me. It's a miracle that I've held on this long. I thought I could escape this life when I died.

But it's like God or some divine force is keeping me alive. I'm just a puppet on strings being told what to do.

Of course I want to give up.

"What could this man possibly do for me?" I questioned.

Her eyes shook in anger and frustration. The tree branches tapped the window, hiss of the breeze whirled so loudly it was heard inside.

"He lived a normal life, as normal as a strega mortale could. He met the spell and welcomed it. He perfectly finished it. What could he know about my situation? My broken pieced spell scattered about my soul?"

"It doesn't hurt to go and see," she argued.

"Maybe it could. We could find something that would end up making it worse for us," I retort.

She retaliated, "Don't you want to go outside?"

I rolled my eyes. She's always telling me I can't go out because it could risk me being seen. Despite me morphing into another person, she still is insistent. And now she's telling me it's no big deal go out? Sounds a bit hypocritical to me.

"And don't you want to meet someone like you?" she pushed.

"No, Pandora. I want to go see my friends. I want to see Sirius. I don't want to go see someone I don't even know," I admitted.

"If we go take a look, he could help you live long enough to finally be with them again."

I paused, making eye contact with her. Her mascara smudged a little due to the long day. A determined expression remained as she sat quietly. I just know she would go without me if I said no. Then, I'd be left alone for a few days. Maybe a couple weeks.

It wouldn't be safe for her to go alone. I know she's careful and meticulous. But if he really is strega mortale, Tom could be keeping tabs on him.

"Fine. If something goes wrong, I won't even need to tell you 'I told you so.'"

-lana